The Scent of Home
by SlytherinDiplomat
Summary: Derek doesn't know what happened or where his family is. All he knows is that he trusts Stiles; that Stiles smells like home. **Takes place after episode 401 "The Dark Moon".


**Disclaimer: MTV owns everything. This is slash.**

**a/n: ****I got this idea from a prompt on tumblr. Of course, I bent it to my will but hopefully it satisfies. Remember that I do take requests. You can send me a message on here or on my tumblr: Dragonflies-and-inkwells. My ask box is always open. Enjoy & Review.**

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Derek groaned as he reached out his hand to whoever had broken the wall of his prison. Every part of his body was aching; screaming in protest as he tried to drag himself out. Unfamiliar scents accosted his nose when the humid air of his surroundings caressed his sweaty skin. Panic was clawing at him; instinct telling him to run. He couldn't though. He couldn't even support his own weight. In the distance he could hear several sets of footsteps running toward them. Foreign voices floated to his ears.

"Is that him? Is that Derek?" inquired a female. Her scent was different, more wild than wolf, but laced with confusion.

The next voice his him like a brick. "Uh—sort of…" Derek forced his head up at the sound. When he looked up a pair of honey eyes were trained on him. Astonishment and concern were pouring off of him in waves. Underneath the overflowing emotions was a scent he had only heard about in stories from his parents. The human smelled of caffeine, woods, and _home_. As long as this human was here everything would be alright. He was safe.

Oh for the love of sweet baby Jesus, what had that psychopathic bitch done to Derek? _Derek,_who was looking straight at Stiles with—was that relief? Stiles honestly didn't have time to decide before the once tall, dark and broody sour wolf passed out cold. Rushing forward, he nudged Braeden out of the way to help Scott drag a teenage Derek to his jeep. Holy shit! A teenage Derek! How were they going to fix this?

Grabbing a thick blanket from the back he and Scott settled Derek in the back seat next to Lydia. They had to get him to Deaton; if anyone would know how to fix this it would be the mysterious veterinarian. Stiles didn't think about all the driving laws he was about to break, he was only thinking about getting Derek home where he belonged. A cloud of dust swirled violently behind the jeep as they started back toward home.

The look on Deaton's face would have been much more satisfying if Stiles wasn't so concerned with how cold Derek was when they laid him on the table. Still wrapped tightly in the blanket, Derek was unconscious and worrying the absolute heck out of him. When Lydia took Derek's hand he didn't like the look of worry on the Banshee's face. Not one damn bit. He could remember a time, back when Scott first got bit, when he would care if Derek lived or died. Now Derek was pack, and no matter how much the sour wolf would deny it they were friends.

"This is beyond anything I have encountered," Deaton admitted. He ran a hand over his bald head as he looked at Derek's prone form. "He seems alright for the time being. You should all go home and get some rest. You have school."

"No, no way," Stiles said with a shake of his head. "Someone needs to be here with you when he wakes up." Deaton looked at him with consideration.

"I'll stay," Scott offered. "I'm his alpha."

"Not if he doesn't remember you, you aren't," Lydia chimed. "I'll stay. My grades are fine, despite missing a few classes."

Stiles mouth fell open in shock before he regained his ability to protest. "I am so not oaky with this. I'm not going anywhere."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Text us if anything happens." The alpha was about to push Stiles toward the door when a cold hand jerked from Lydia's grasp and clamped onto Stiles' wrist. Frightened hazel eyes sought out Stiles. Derek whined as he tugged on the appendage before he lost consciousness once more. Stiles gawked at the hand that remained wrapped around his wrist before looking to Scott and Lydia.

"Maybe it is best if Stiles is the one to stay," Deaton offered. "If Derek wakes up disoriented Stiles seems like the one most capable of calming him."

"I don't understand," Stiles rambles. "Derek hates me. Well, maybe hate is a strong word, but why is he grabbing onto me instead of Scott? I'm not his alpha."

Deaton shrugged and Scott mimicked the action. "Whatever, dude, call when he wakes up." Scott patted Stiles on the shoulder before escorting Lydia out.

Stiles didn't dare remove his wrist from Derek's grip. His sleep addled brain not registering a reason for his own strange behavior. He just used his foot to drag over a chair before falling down into it. He pried Derek's grip from his wrist and gripped his hand, like Lydia hand before, instead. The last thought that crossed his mind before his head fell back and sleep over took him was _Let that she bitch just try and take him from us again_.

Derek was cold except for a comforting heat radiating from his hand_._Caffeine, woods, and the scent of home filled his nose. Then the panic set in. He wasn't in his room, and he certainly wasn't in his house. He jerked himself up, heart pounding, and searched the room. His breath caught when he recognized the human from the previous night, holding tightly to his hand as he looked at him in alarm.

"Derek? Are you okay?" he questioned, releasing his hand. The warm feeling his touch had been providing ebbed away leaving him cold and bereft. Derek wanted to whine at the loss.

"I—What's going on?" he asked as he looked at the human. Why didn't he remember him? The human obviously knew him.

"Derek, you need to tell us what you remember," said Deaton from across the room.

Why did the emissary look so much older? Derek furrowed his brow trying to recall current events. He couldn't remember anything except that dusty pit. He hadn't known how he got there or when. He didn't know anything. He wanted his mother, he wanted his _pack_. Derek's eyes glowed blue as his breathing increased, a terrible feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Where is my family?

"Derek—" began Deaton.

"No! Tell me what's happened! I—I can't remember—"

Derek jumped off the table, backing toward the door. His vision was turning from human to wolf, his claws extending, fangs elongating. He couldn't hear anything past the rush of blood in his ears. What was this? Was he having an emotional breakdown?

"Oh, God, I know that look," said the human "He is having a panic attack. I didn't even know a werewolf could have a panic attack!" He took a few steps toward Derek, hands held up in caution as he neared. "Derek calm down. We're going to figure this out, okay. We always figure it out."

As he neared that calming scent filled Derek's lungs. He could feel himself calming down, his claws and fangs retracting. _SafeHomeLoveSafe_. His vision flickered back to normal.

"You with us again, big guy?" The human was in his personal space, strong hands squeezing his shoulders. He nodded as he tried to hold himself still. All he wanted was to pull this human into his arms and rest his nose in the crook of his neck. Derek just wanted him to make all the pain and confusion go away.

"Do you remember me? I'm Stiles." _Stiles?...such an odd name…_ "Nothing? The pool? Throwing me up against walls? Slamming my head into my steering wheel?" Had he hurt this human before? No he wouldn't. Something was off...Everything was _wrong._"Derek? Derek, don't freak out again, your sa—" Derek ran. He turned and bolted out of Deaton's building before he gave into his wolf and pulled Stiles into his arms and scented him. He needed to talk to his Mother. He ran a fast as he could through the preserve. Nothing smelled right. Why couldn't he smell Laura or anyone else? Their scents should dominate the territory. He stopped cold when he saw the construction site. What the hell?

Derek slashed open the construction gate with his claws. There was nothing more than a pile of charred wood behind it, smelling faintly of despair and guilt, but nothing else. How long had he been gone? His knees hit the ground with a heavy thud. The scent of his family was long faded, which could only mean that they had been gone for a _very_ long time. The tears fell without warning.

"Derek?" He shot up and whirled around. "Derek, stay calm okay." The guy had his held up in caution.

_Wolf_his brain told him. Derek growled. "Who are you? What happened to my house?" The wolf's eyes flashed red and Derek stiffened. "You're an alpha."

"I'm your alpha Derek."

"You're not my alpha. My mother is the only alpha in Beacon Hills!" What the fuck was going on? Derek took a threatening step forward and Scott roared. He _roared._ Derek once again fell to his knees, but this time it was in submission to an alpha. He had never heard the roar of an alpha that rivaled his mothers. _Never._The panic was surfacing again.

"Derek, I'm sorry," the alpha stammered. He took several steps backward, regret heavy in the air.

The sound of tires skidding to a halt a short distance away had Derek's eyes snapping up. A jeep and an expensive car had halted in front of the construction site. Strong heart beats filled his ears.

"Shit, Scott!" called his human as he ran forward with two females in tow. "You weren't supposed to go all alpha on him!"

Derek felt the tension melt out of his body when Stiles' scent hit his nose. The hand he placed on his shoulder had Derek swaying forward before he caught himself. He leaned into the touch, trying to fight the instinct to rest his nose in the crook of Stiles' neck.

"Stiles! You can't go around touching werewolves who don't remember you!" The alpha admonished.

He growled low in his chest, eyes flicking to the alpha. Derek would never hurt this human. Stiles, seeming to understand, knelt down to his level. "Shut up, Scott, I don't think Derek wants to hurt me—which I'll give you, is worrying, but so not the issue right now."

Derek looked into Stiles' eyes. "Please tell me, what's going on," he pleaded. "Where is my family?" Honey eyes searched his and Derek could smell the sympathy and pity rolling off him in waves. The cold feeling began settling in the pit of his stomach again.

Stiles gripped his shoulders tight. "We will explain everything, but we need to get out of here before the police catch us trespassing." Derek wanted to protest, but he knew he could feel Stiles' anxiety now.

"You can stay with me until we figure out how to fix everything," offered the alpha.

Derek stiffened and Stiles looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"No," Derek said before flicking his eyes to Stiles. "You. I trust you."

Stiles' jaw dropped in shock. He tried several times to speak, but he couldn't move past opening and closing his mouth at random intervals.

"Stiles?" Lydia questioned slowly. "You trust Stiles?"

Derek nodded. Stiles, seeming to come back to reality, helped Derek up off the ground. "You can stay with me then, and I'll explain when we get there."

"Stiles, you really shouldn't be alo—"

Derek growled again and flashed blue eyes at the alpha. "I won't hurt him. I can control myself." Derek watched as the alpha narrowed his eyes before sniffing the air. He knew he was giving off a protective scent toward Stiles, and that seemed to pacify the alpha, who nodded reluctantly.

"I have someone to go talk to, but I'll swing by afterwards."

Stiles groaned next to Derek and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Ugh, I hate that guy Scott. He is such a creepy wolf."

"Yeah, well, he might be able to help. Just take Derek back to your house and call me if anything goes wrong."

Derek followed Stiles to the jeep.

Stiles was doing his best not to freak out about the fact that Derek Hale was sitting on his bed. In his clothes. That actually fit. Really, he was. Derek, he noticed, was taking deep breaths as he worried the hem on his borrowed shirt. Stiles sighed loudly causing Derek to look at him.

"I guess I should give you some answers huh, sour wolf?" he admitted as he plopped down in his desk chair. Stiles watched as troubled hazel eyes stared at the floor.

"You lost a pretty large chunk of your memory down in Mexico. Were trying to figure out how to fix that, but unfortunately this tips the scale on our weird shit-o-meter—which you is pretty hard to do."

"How much memory have I lost?" Derek's voice was uncertain, scared. Stiles wasn't used to that. He wasn't used to seeing such an open face on Derek. _Derek_ who always wore a mask of anger. This was freaking strange.

"Years, Derek." Derek's eyes went wide, his breathing quickening. He didn't wait for the werewolf to enter a full blown meltdown before he quickly crossed the room and took a seat beside him. "I know that you think it's impossible with you looking like," Stiles gestured to Derek's overall appearance, "a teenager, but you need to understand that you have been aged back. You're supposed to be in your twenties, Derek, and somehow that bitch has screwed you up."

Derek looked at Stiles with raised eye brows, but then his brows furrowed and he looked away. "You said she. Who kidnapped me?"

_Shit._Stiles face palmed himself repeatedly before Derek grabbed his hand firmly. Stiles blew out a breath before turning to fully face him. Stiles didn't let go of Derek's hand because you don't just tell someone about the absolute hell that has been their life without holding their hand. You just don't, okay.

"This is about my family isn't it? Why my house has been burnt down?"

Stiles nodded. "Do you know Kate Argent?" The question was simple, but all the color drained from Derek's face. Stiles gripped his hand just a little bit tighter. "She trapped your family in your house, and sat the fire that killed them." Derek's face twisted in utter agony. Tears slid freely down his cheeks.

"Th—they're all dead, because of me." It came out barely above a whisper, but it made Stiles' heart ache and his temper flare.

"No, No, Derek! Just no! Kate is a manipulative, cradle robbing, crazy hunter turned werejaguar. Her killing your family was _not_ your fault. You need to get that through your stupid werewolf brain. I always knew that on some level you blamed yourself for their deaths but…damn, Derek."

"But I—"

"No buts, sour wolf. Kate would've done it one way or another. She is fucking crazy." The wolf placed his free hand on Stiles' chest. Stiles covered it with his and reiterated, "Your family being slaughtered by that insane she bitch was not your fault." His heartbeat was completely calm and finally Derek seemed to believe he was telling the truth.

Stiles wanted to stand up and fist pump the air, but before he knew it he his arms full of Derek Hale. He paused, more than a little bit surprised at the blatant show of affection before wrapping his arms around him in return.

Stiles' brain went on a mini vacation as Derek rubbed his nose up and down the side of his neck. Hot damn, that felt good! Why _did_ that feel so good? He was pressing closer to Derek, fingers tangling in the werewolf's dark hair when the window broke. Shards of glass flew across the room, several of them embedding themselves in Stiles' arms. Immediately he was jerked violently behind Derek who was now completely wolfed out and growling fiercely at Kate Argent. The bitch had the nerve to try and look confused at the treatment Derek was giving her.

"Derek? Why are you growling at me?" Her eyes were wide with feigned innocence. "Has he been lying to you?" Derek growled louder and wrapped a protective, but clawed hand around Stiles wrist. "He did all of this Derek. He killed your family not me."

"Seriously? Your going that route?" Stiles inquired disbelievingly from behind Derek. "He has been aged back, but he isn't stupid, you bitch."

Kate took a menacing step forward and Derek roared, snapping his teeth at her. Kate's eyes widened as she took a step back toward the window.

"What lies have you been telling him?" Her voice was soft almost mistakable for concern.

"I told him everything, so whatever screwed up plan you had has gone to shit. We're not going to let you hurt him anymore." Stiles really hoped Derek could comprehend the weight of that statement once he was back to normal because he meant it with every fiber of his being. Derek was pack, and Derek was _loved._ Talk about a bad time to have a life altering realization.

Kate grows brought Stiles back to reality. She flashed a set of sharp fangs in Derek's direction, causing Stiles to curl a hand around his shoulder. He didn't acknowledge the fact that he was growling a bit his self, and it didn't sound very human. Kate's eyes went wide at the sound.

"That is something I didn't count on," she said with a smirk. Stiles lowered his brows. "Either way it makes him useless to me now. Might as well kill the both of you."

Her features shifted before their eyes and then she lunged. Derek roared and tackled her against the wall. _Shit! Shit! Shit!_Where the hell was his bat? Stiles backed up in horror as Derek was thrown against his door, cracking the frame and sending splinters flying. Kate slinked forward. Her claws were about to swipe right across Derek's chest and Stiles just couldn't let it go down like that.

The lamp next to his bed had been bought by his mother, but that was the last thing his was thinking about when he jerked it from the socket and lobbed it at her with every bit of force he had. It shattered violently against her back, causing her to stop and turn toward him with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy kil—"

Stiles watched, frozen as Derek pulled himself from the floor and slashed his claws across Kates back before he threw her into Stiles' computer desk with a deafening roar. If Scott and the rest of the pack hadn't realized what was happening they would now.

"You will _never_hurt him." Stiles sucked in a breath at the sound of Derek's deep baritone.

Kate blanched. Even from the back the broad set of his shoulders and the new tightness of his shirt made his return to normal sour wolf obvious. When Derek turned to face Stiles, his stubble firmly back in place, Kate frantically scrambled out the window. A trail of blood left in her wake.

The wolf stood tense in front of him eyes glowing yellow instead of blue.

"Derek, your eyes are yellow."

"What?"

"They're not blue, Derek. Why aren't your eyes blue?" Stiles questioned frantically as he stepped forward.

When he was in arms length Derek pulled Stiles into his arms with a near crushing force. Derek was back to normal. Derek was back to normal and Stiles loved him. Well, hell. How was he supposed to deal with that?

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek in return, letting out a satisfied sigh when Derek started rubbing his nose up his neck and across his jaw.

"You growled at her," Derek rumbled.

Stiles sputtered indignantly before bursting into a fit of laughter. "Yeah, well, stranger things have happened."

Derek's hold loosened before he took a step back, eyes flicking down to Stiles' arms. Another growl was on his lips, but Stiles just rolled his eyes as he made his way into the bathroom and fetched the first aid kit from under the sink.

Derek had followed close behind. When Stiles turned the kit fell from his hands as he jumped. The werewolf caught it before it could hit the floor. Stiles didn't protest when he began silently removing the glass and cleaning the small cuts.

When Derek switched to his other arm Stiles looked at Derek with a smirk. "Are you going to explain why your teenage self trusted me with every ounce of his wolfy being?"

Derek's gaze flitted up briefly before falling on another piece of embedded glass. Stiles winced as he tugged it out.

"Your scent was calming," he said simply as the glass fell into the sink with a _clink_.

"Oh, no, sour wolf. You are going to have to do much better than that. You were one step away from accosting me before Kate shattered the window!"

"Stiles you don't want—"

"Do you dare tell me I don't want to know, Derek Hale. Why?"

The werewolf sighed and quietly finished patching up Stiles' arms before walking back to his room. Stiles trailed close behind. He had to stop for a moment at the sight of his room. It looked like someone had committed a brutal murder…or like two supernatural beings with super strength had a throw down. He sighed and shook his head, refusing to look at his broken computer desk.

Derek was sitting on the side of his bed, head in his hands. Cleaning could wait. He took a seat next to Derek on his bed.

"You said that you wouldn't let Kate hurt me anymore…Why did you say that, Stiles?"

He ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the wall in front of him. "Because we are pack, Derek. I know you're grumpy wolf butt will never admit it, but we're friends and I don't like it when people try to hurt the people I care about."

"You care about me?" Derek was looking at him now.

"Of course I care about you. I wouldn't have gone to Mexico and laid fifty-thousand dollars down on a hunter's desk if I didn't. I also wouldn't have drove to a freaky, haunted ghost town to bring you back either."

Derek looked away again. Several minutes passed and Stiles thought that would be the end of their conversation before Derek spoke quietly, "Your scent changed after the alpha pack disaster."

Stiles looked at him. "Changed? You mean when the nogitsune—"

"No. No it changed when I chose you as a mate. It changed when I decided I trusted you more than anyone else alive. It changed when I fell in love with you, Stiles."

Sweet baby Jesus Derek was in love with him. How in the hel—wait was he leaving. Stiles grabbed Derek by the arm before he could reach the window.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "You can't just tell a guy you love him and escape out the window like a freaking—Gah!" He flailed his arms dramatically. "I don't even know right now because you apparently love me!"

"Stiles, I'm sorry. It isn't something that I can change. Just forget that I said it." Derek turned to leave again but Stiles jerked him back harder. "Stiles—" _mmph!_ Stiles had crashed their lips together with one determined motion. The tension in Derek's shoulders eased immediately as he wrapped his arms around the crazy human, pulling him closer.

Stiles smiled into the kiss before pulling away, eyes softening. "You don't get to just walk away because I want you too, you big idiot."

Derek rested his forehead against his. "Stiles, you don't understand. It will only ever be you for me. Werewolves don't change their minds once they choose a mate."

Stiles just kept smiling. He rested his lips on Derek's. The kiss was different this time. It was gentle and soft, enticing a low growl from the wolf. When he pulled away Derek was watching him closely with a furrowed brow.

"If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm okay with that. I'm okay with forever with you. Even if it does mean I'll be stuck with your poor social skills for the rest of our lives."

Derek smiled at him. Derek Hale genuinely smiled at him before kissing Stiles with every fiber of his gorgeous wolfy self.

Stiles just let himself be pulled deeper into the kiss before a horrified gasp from his doorway shattered the moment. The two of them jerked their mouths apart abruptly, but did not bother untangling their arms, before looking to see the rest of the pack in the doorway.

Scott stood in front, jaw hanging slack at the sight of them. Lydia was smirking along with Kira. Malia rolled her eyes from the back of the cluster.

"Finally," she said huffed. "The scent coming off him was obvious even in Mexico."

"What scent?" Scott asked. The girls laughed.

Stiles shook his head before smiling into Derek's chest. "Sometimes I worry about you, Scott. Our Alpha must be trained in the art of mating." Derek laughed loudly and kissed the top of his head. Stiles just pressed closer when Derek's arms tightened around him. This was home.


End file.
